The WITCH saga, part 1: Phobos
by Burntmeadows
Summary: The previous writer NotQuiteNorm. The Phobos' story rewritten. A dark prince has been the tyrant ruler of his planet till it's near destruction, and a group of girls are given the job of protecting their world from him. Rated T for dark content: may become an M in future.
1. Prologue

Dust. It stretched out for miles like the air had been born that way: unstoppable. Thickening the world like a tension that could sneak through ones fingers, but fill and destroy a mother's lungs. His eyes were like steel, watching it carefully; after time you could see it flicker, and bouncing. To the beat of the thunder that never stopped, as though only one second played and repeated in his mind. Maybe it had stopped and only Phobos could hear it now; his imagination drumming the clacks of a billion silver boots in his ears to match where the dust jumped. Not that he could know his army made it - Phobos knew nothing from here. From clarity and his beautiful possessions. The wailing child had finally silenced. The world outside was made of ash and the smell of burning bodies had started seeping into the walls anyway. There were fires going on outside maybe, but he was protected in here.

He wished that he could see.

He never moved, Phobos. No one would be able to know if he stood for a year at his window. He wanted to see. There was nothing that wasn't his, he was sure of it. But what was the point in an invisible empire. An empty world.

Phobos' fingers glazed silently over the window pane. Wondering what was out there.

He wished that he could see.


	2. Chapter 1: It Begins

_The rain fell like icy shards through the undetermined darkness; harsh winds blew the dust and glassy sands to slice through sin. It's force threatened to blow all that cowered on the hard, unforgiving earth beneath and wailed out through what was neither day nor night._

Magic was a powerful thing by namesake, and in purest form was a Godly gift passed generously through life as a lover for the universe. But then came Yang - the deepest black that almost always reached the eyes of the truly alone: creeping up on those begging for lost souls - a magic that required soul in a means like no other alchemy. A forged potion and spell that took the name of the undead. All knowledgeable in this aware that, the undead as a mythical creature were of course based on a frightening truth.

Black magic that rotted not the skin, but the way that one's heart beat; that did not allow the body to frail, but something more mortal. The lurching dead man was not the fate of those that dabbled in black magic, but rather what would magnetise to them to create a madness in their desperation for live beauty.

It cost a fraction of your soul to create _lifelike_... And no one has been brave enough to create _life__._

_Worse still was the fire boiling inside her; if she wasn't frozen from fear of the elemental offenders, she'd be writhing as her skin burned inside out._

"Wilhelmina Vandom." The words sparked lightning into the liquid hazel eyes, an unsettling click as tired bones stood rigid and straight for the first time in a decade. The voice was shrill, yet wispy and had the croaking gurgle that a toad might be expected to make, and those large eyes settled silently on the swallowing roll beneath where the voice's head and chin was meant to be. The woman had good posture, though Wilhelmina Vandom supposed that that wouldn't change that she was a fairly short woman, except for that Wilhelmina was shorter.

And undoubtedly thinner: though Wilhelmina had gulped that she was lost, she hadn't heard what had been said to be followed by a thick hand on her shoulder - thin and brittle next to the broad set in a padded 'woman's suit jacket' that was weaving her around a corner and past various doors. The hazel eyes couldn't help wander through violently blood red strands of her messy bob to her rector's pin-sized black eyes, behind thin lensed glasses that spoke only of the woman's seriousness. It seemed as though wrinkles should be in place on this woman's face, but instead there was a plumpness about her that almost led the young teen to believe her peer might be quite young. "How old are y- I prefer Will."

Will had stammered to correct an obvious mistake at the speed that the beady eyes had been in contact with her own large brown ones' focus, making the girl nervously look instead down at the ugly blue dress-suit, then up at the great piling beehive of grey hair atop of this peer of hers' head. Her eyes didn't dare follow the thick hands path as it stretched outwards to this large woman's side until she spoke. "Miss Vandom. Your class."

And suddenly the held breaths and stunned expressions of 30 pairs of eyes became apparent, causing Will Vandom's back to crack a little too attentively again. A spindly, tall figure with a blue knitted jumper and strawberry blonde hair to match his bushy moustache and suede elbow patches seemed unsure of who's eye contact to make. The 40-something year old man pushed a dangerously dwindling piece of chalk that could hardly be called a piece, down against the edge of the chalkboard. "Principle Knickerbocker..."

"I'm sure you have assigned Miss Wilhelmina Vandom a seat." Will winced at the re-emerging sharp tone in the principle's voice and felt an understanding as to why the younger African descented girl had fled. The one person who'd braved entering the corridors at such a late hour other than Will herself. Who'd of course, it would be fated, been caught late on the first day by the Kaiser, probably a half hour late for class- _RRRRrrrNNNggG!_

_The bell rang. _Maybe a little more than an hour.

"Not that it would appear to matter whether you had."

Will guiltily turned, but in the moment the woman had gone, and Will found herself alone and vulnerable amongst a crowd of heads and bodies gliding past her... And _into_. She groaned as heavy arms shouldered her; the unconcerned and dead-eyed students altogether trying to walk through her awkward attempt to stay standing, until she finally caught herself- and her breath at steel blue eyes squinting mercilessly... Through long ruler blonde strands... And another pair of curious greyish was all she saw in that glimpse- gone in an instant.

**...**

Cornelia Hale did not appreciate vulgar behaviour that disrupted her classes. The obviously eighth grader - with fire coloured hair that couldn't be natural and the rough size and form of a seven year old - had _slid,_ in fact _skidded _mud and grimepast her classroom door at no less than 9:15 in the morning, creating an awful squeak of friction against the unpolished lino floor and stealing the focus of her presentation of the Hallows Eve Ball organisation right as she flashed the slide from proper funding to themes and decoration.

The Hallows Eve Ball she had been planning for three months, which was ultimately twice as fantastic as any idea or attempt of a plan that any girl other than Cornelia could create had she been dreaming of this date for a lifetime. The biggest feature of course being the gigantic model pumpkin that Principle Knickerbocker herself had requested be the focus of the night. Not to mention the thankfully decreased parental organization and monitoring due to the Hales happening to donate the PTA a charitable evening at one of Heatherfield's finest restaurants downtown.

And if one thing impressed Cornelia Hale less than the rude introduction she had faced of this minor, it was finding out that this minor was not a minor at all. The blonde scowled at the thought of Elyon - her truest of friends and the youngest _exceptional _member of the prom and formal committee - pointing back at the waif of a girl and informing her that the wild cherry red hair and stick thin figure was that of a fifteen year old girl. Wilhelmina Vandom could easily be a week or year younger than her. And if their classes should so-happen to collide, the wretched account of a female form should watch her steps. "Elyon."

Grey eyes that somehow never ceased in looking wonder-struck sought Cornelia's and her dirty blonde eyebrows furrowed. Cornelia only raised her own brows and shot a look at the face-to-match-her-hair grunge model as Wilhelmina chewed the majority of her lip thoughtfully. Thinking of a place to sit that wasn't also drenched in the stink of bleach and ..._urination__._ Sheffield Institute could blame the perverted criminal Uriah Dunn for the three broken toilet bowls in the female lavatory. In much the same sense as Uriah, this girl didn't belong here.

"What do we know about her?"

**...**

She arrived yesterday. Yan Lin's granddaughter would undoubtedly pass within meters of her fate today and never know about it. An ancient prophecy was unfolding and the aged Chinese woman Yan Lin had spent a vast amount of her 84 years waiting for it.

_"Xīwàng wǒmen jièjiàn;"_The blackest of eyes softened as they closed in prayer; a strand of pink fragrance drawing round her as the incense burned peacefully. The background chatter of the restaurant upstairs fading to nothing in Yan Lin's ears as her heartbeat echoed through her. _"Hope, be drawn upon us all."_

**...**

There was nothing to prove that the mindset of the _'dark prince' _was in those eyes, but he was certainly a ruler. The young man's silvery eyes glinted with something that echoed regal nature, and there was a way about him that drew in your attention; something that the painter must have spent a fortune of time capturing. Pure and almost white strands of hair made the man striking and Taranee didn't often glance at her textbooks' illustrations. _Prince Escanor _had been thought of as insane. He spent his days as a child always grasping a stone that he'd claim was full of secrets... and was well known for disappearing without a trace. It was that that created rumours of him being tainted and Taranee sympathised with the poor child of the past; the dark age was truly that when a teen was accused of witchcraft for carrying a- "You set me up."

The African-American's dark eyes shot to the source of the voice, forgetting the diamond pendant hanging from the neck of the painted figure; the beads that were strung on the few long strands of her dark elfin cut jingled slightly. It was the girl from this morning. Taranee had walked almost straight into the fierce _Wilhelmina Vandom _taking the wrath of the principle whilst Taranee pressed herself into the wall around the corner, praying they didn't come her way. Taranee knew there was only one chance and took a deep (and hopefully subtle) breath, looking up at her accuser and the disturber of her happy lonely lunch. "...I don't know what you'r-"

"Bullshit." Taranee's eyes widened and the jelly of her sandwich covered her fingers as her hands clenched at the language. She realized as she held her breath that she might be the only person ever intimidated by the massive brown eyes glaring at her, but this girl was totally unpredictable. Something proven when she... sat down and started to eat. The quiet of the empty back room made Taranee think of her first day and trying to meet the people in her classes; the way this girl suddenly couldn't look up from her interesting lunch. "So, um. Will- I'm Will. What's your name?"

A small smile was hard to hide from Taranee's dark lips, but she didn't dare look up either. Will.

**...**

"P-Prince Escanor." A pale smirk was hard to hide on his of thin lips as the elderly man quavered, holding his loudly clinking tray of whimsical potions. He was claimed to be a healer; something the right hand of the Prince Phobos had never had faith in. But then, Lord Cedric had no need to. The Elderly man turned now to him. "My L-Lord."

"_Hssss!_" Cedric scowled, but didn't the smirk grow on the Prince's hundred faces. The elderly _wizard _gasped loudly and coughed his fright, before shaking his head and turning away from Lord Cedric's lengthly, forked tongue. What was a magic man doing looking surprised by his Prince's fine work. Whether it be the filthy eath-creatures he used as eyes or the Lord himself. Lord Cedric admired his reflection in the long windows; filled and reflective due to the black blue sky behind it. His green shaded scales fading back to soft, peachy skin as fast as they had summoned. This room was no place for his animalistic side, with it's thick maroon silk curtains, and shined marble floors beneath a jungle of humanoid forms made of dirt. The small dark shadow of a child was barely visible from around the doorway._She_ had a tendency to lurk where she wasn't invited.

Cedric invited himself out. As uninterested as he was he would later be surely told again of any news, and the lack of finding himself being stopped, the Lord knew he had permission. "Th-the princess.. She's-"

**...**

Cornelia Hale didn't fit in with her parents. Everyone had heard this story and Hay Lin felt her small eyes fluttering shut before she pried them opening. She had had some trouble sleeping recently due to a draft that wouldn't go away. She supposed she could gather the older girl's point; Cornelia was the textbook's idea of perfection with thin pale lips and long blonde hair that was straight as a poker and utterly flawless, framing her face and cut-throat steely blue eyes. Hay Lin didn't suppose it meant much to her - Cornelia wasn't anything special really. Everyone made a fuss, but she spent most of her time trying to deflect her perfection (not that Cornelia would admit it): why else would she spend her time with a bunch of girls from the year below?

"Hey Corn-dog?" Hay Lin grinned as her own best friend cut off miss perfection. Irma was a bodacious brunette and was just waiting to turn into a curvy glamour model - not that she'd admit it to anyone else. She was also hilarious and outrageous and Hay Lin laughed every time the girl opened her mouth. "Why are you so jealous of the new girl hm?"

**...**

Irma Lair smirked knowingly as the blonde across the table - _that they all knew too well and loved more than she deserved _- whispered to Elle in hushed tones. There had been nothing, more than a snort in reply to Irma's question, on the skinny kid. She'd thought Cornelia was better than singling out new pupils; or at least not while their homecoming vote was so close...but who new what fluffy stress was going on in her head. Of course, she was currently whispering Halloween plans fiercely to Elyon, and if it wasn't the poor girl's birthday that night Irma would call the two of them out on it being fuss over nothing. Elyon had been forced ahead of her years since forever. And Irma hated watching Elyon swan around with them like she'd ever kissed a boy before. (It was Cornelia, Irma guessed, who'd probably cut in and lied _for _Elyon, not that Elle didn't happily let her). Irma however, didn't care if Cornelia was 16 now - she'd still flick her peas at the stuck up bitch if she wanted. And Irma-

Irma's line of thought was cut off by what she could only describe as that long endless noise of a flatline... The temperature dropped and she could swear that her ears gushed with a combination of her heart pumping blood to her face and a ticker slowly dropping and making it's way around the clock; her breathing deep yet shallow. She felt her body rigidly still, only letting her eyes flicke- _drag _over the offending body.

_Not that his body offended her._

'Wait.' Irma shook her head. What was she thinking. _That Andrew Hornby was the only reason she was going to Cornelia's- _"I don't even like him that much!"

But Cornelia's raised brow didn't budge from her hairline and Irma scowled knowing she'd been foiled. "You've got drool on your chin."

**...**

_Her eyes were black as cold pressed coal, as though it had made her without a soul, being birthed from a lifeless body. Galgheita scolded such a sinister thought to place on the orphaned baby. And him. He bit his lip until blood rolled down his porcelain skin uneasily, wobbling down over his chin and starting on his neck. Galgheita's eyes brimmed with fear and pity at her King, holding her breath and hearing his voice for the very first time in her life. "I shall have to be her mother **and **her father then."_

_A part of her knew the end was coming then._

**...**

Elyon smiled thoughtfully as Cornelia shrugged off Irma's denial to the obvious obsession for Andrew Hornby from the year above, her finger tracing the scribble of a giant pumpkin lantern that was several feet tall and to be lit at the end of Cornelia and her Halloween dance.

She didn't know why but something gave her shivers when she thought about that night. It was going to be the best birthday ever.


	3. Chapter 2: Halloween

They had a plan. Vathek frowned, reminding himself of the fact, considering the flaws that he dared not speak of. He glanced at his hands. The thick, leathery blue skin stretched paler as he clenched his meaty fist; nervous of the unknown world he was about to be treading. He'd heard Lord Cedric: _This is Halloween. _The meaning unclear, but he wondered the penalty for crossing the bridge into uncharted territory. In Meridian it was having each of the seven layers of his skins peeled back from his chest or head and having his body manipulated so that pain and over-riding lack of control was to be followed for hours, by being left, forced to live on under the rule of the King. As whatever had forged over to heal your skin. Vathek had not seen a _whisperer, _but his thick squarish finger touched the rocky features protruding from his collar, that mingled with a soft substance that never felt quite solid and worked it's way up and around his head. He'd been attempting a kidnap then too. Different Escanor.

But there it was: the one think that held more fear than the Prince himself. It made him winced and grimace at the light and yet he could not turn away. His Lordship came to his left from behind him - wearing the same long robes that Vathek had not seen Lord Cedric wear to Earth before. Whatever he was usually doing, this was not it. Vathek gently shook his head and spoke gruffly. "Why haven't you taken her before. What were you doing."

"Stabilising." The snakish voice was soft as silk, barely a mist of sound as it always seemed to be, and the serene perfect humanoid lips smirking as they always seemed to be. But Vathek knew the Lord was scared. Everyone feared something and Lord Cedric was almost certainly afraid of the Prince. The scales up his neck let Vathek know the man had already been impoverished before the King had built him into what he'd wanted him to be. The black hole didn't look stable at all; in fact it looked more volatile than the dark Prince could ever have been, not that he had more than imagination. Shots more elemental than lightning bounced out of the fabric of the universe - which as he understood was burst at the seams and this what was left - and surged a tunnel that appeared to never end. A haze of blues and nudes and whites and Vathek wondered then if it had no colour and was simply reflecting. Despite his shallow breaths his Lordship outstretched a hand. "Shall we?"

Vathek swallowed and squeezed his eyes tight, picturing what could lurk on the other side on the night of hurt and pain and horror. _This is Halloween._

* * *

"It's _Hallow's Eve_." Deep blue eyes glimmered playfully under the blacklight: orange and blacks flashing across the hall and revealing crowds of freakish ghouls and ghosties writhing and jumping around to the music; throwing and hitting balloons in the air; pulling streamers from the walls and looking for corners of the room without prying eyes of supervising adults. Plastic masks and pointed hats crunched under the feet of those discarding them as the temperature raised, unheard under the shrieks and laughs and howls and pounding vibration of music. The Halloween party was a smash hit and everyone was enjoying it.

The founder, Cornelia Hale had curls down to her waist, falling beautifully past and around her shoulders and framing her face. Her silky pink top and purple skirt paired with a tiny set of flawless wings that were perfectly suited to her fairytale poise. And Elyon looked as good, though not quite as elegant with green ribbon vines and leaves wrapped round her arms and strung through her hair, she made the perfect elf. Her short emerald dress and dolly shoes simply adorable in the midst of bloody corpses and giant blue ogres that filled the room. Hay Lin frowned at what must've been some latex job, seeing her 1st prize costume as a bundle of rags in comparison to the great hulking beast that just missed grabbing the arm of that red head girl. A thin whisp of a man, young but at least 18, briskly backhanded the other kid's arm showing about the same level of amusement as Cornelia with Irma, shaking his head, his face flawless, but obviously unimpressed considering the thin line his lips drew into. Hay Lin found herself doing the exact same backhand - with a little less anger and a little more speed - to whichever of the girl's was next to her, and Elyon turned to her as Hay Lin's heart fluttered. "L-Look, he's- he's-"

"Who-hnng." Elyon sighed as Hay Lin's large black eyes glazed over the red line of make-up covering his eyes like a mask; his long thick overcoat, and turtleneck robes that he wore beneath. The group in fact had all started gazing at him, stunned. There was just something about hi- "Oh jeeze did that girl just faint?"

"She probably hasn't eaten in a couple years." Hay Lin found herself swallowing the uncomfortable feeling she got hearing Cornelia murmur and Elyon snort. She'd been feeling it alot lately and Irma, she felt, knowingly squeezed her thin arm from behind. They'd all felt something splitting them recently; age, Irma said, but Hay Lin just tried to shake it off. It was a stage. Her Grandmother said that she felt Hay Lin shouldn't worry too much - that fate would only separate her to bring her to greater things. Hay Lin watched Taranee Cook from mathematics help the red head up, the guy who'd obviously planned on going for it backing off. Greater things...

* * *

Cedric's eyes flit across the room, watching the flare of red as she made her way outside. He made a face, trying to ignore the stench of power filtering through the room like footprints of where she'd been all night. It was far too good an opportunity to waste; the Prince would have no idea. "Seize her. I want her brought also."

"But my Lord-" Sharp blue cut the beast like a blade and twisted as he held his breath. Cedric could see her majesty in the corner of his peripheral vision, dainty, but ultimately plain which made him wonder about the legends of the Prince. How could anyone be sure if he was beautiful. Cedric smirked, his fingers clenching, breathing cool air into the warm room from his nose.

He pat the greasy oaf and began through the crowd, "How can we be sure which is the one."

And with that Vathek had began moving along, Cedric pressed his fingers easily onto the backs of these children, his eyes on the Queen like she was magnificent. But in fact she wasn't, she was dim, she had been far too far from magic to be bright and it was the crown jewel that held the gist of the power, not this waif. It was residue, a family trait she wouldn't be able to pass on, unlike - he supposed - her mother's flaming hair. He smiled as the corner of her lip lifted, her fingers wiggling nervously at his approach as though he was the greater power.

He stood facing her as she edged toward him. Asking if there was something he wanted, if he was lost. But he just let his eyelids laze over his cool gaze, silence hitting the air and even he pursed his lips a little to stop a grin. "I suppose I should wish you the best for turning fourteen. I was wondering if you'd be interested in a walk."

It had been as simple as that, he knew, bending his arm which she blushed and took graciously. He'd wanted to leave the wretched noise and mindless bodies since the moment had arrived and wondered why he'd bided her time. Looking past the children shrieking and playing it was obvious that she'd been ill educated. This was no queen, but a child. As they stepped outside his eyes crept to the two girls at the other side of the courtyard. A microphone echoed out something of a costume and a steadier flow than the quiet few already sat outside came flooding out, a clock striking for the first time in the distance. There was no sign of Vathek as wails and screams filled the night, his hand wrapping around hers and dragging her through the chills and crisp air; the dancing breeze that dismissed the interruption they had caused. Tonight was the night.

* * *

_'HALLOWEEN HALLOWEEN'_

"LET'S HEAR IT FOR THEEEEEE PRINCIPLE'S DECISION! THE BEST COSTUME HAS BEEN DECIDED! AND THEN WE'RE GONNA LIGHT THE FLAMING PUMPKIN!"

_'HALLOWEEN HALLOWEEN; HALLOWEEN HALLOWEEN'_

Vathek found himself being carried by a crowd of dozens of people, pushing past a screaming brunette that yelped out the name Martin and grabbing the thin waif of a boy just as he slipped from Vathek's tight grasp, replying to her unconcerned voice yelling behind her, '_You toad!'_ by transforming; Vathek peered back at the surprised looking frog between crowds of feet, wondering exactly how many species on Earth could transform or whether he had perhaps slipped from the portal since it had opened too. People laughed and chanted loudly, clapping as someone's name was stated by a far older wench, he growled as their eyes fell to him, realizing perhaps they had been caught he pushed away from them seeing someone approach. He threw the goblet eventually they handed him before they could fill it with poison and pushed past their hysterical reaction. "ALRIGHT, WHO WANTS TO LIGHT THE PUMPKIN!"

Vathek sighed when he reached the edge of the crowd, his eye catching the thing he'd lost the second he'd attempted to follow her. There was no time for subtlety, he- "What do you mean FIREWORKS!? URIAH WE'RE ALL GONNA-"

* * *

Chaos crashed like thunder and emerald eyes shot to the erupting volcano of flames; a dark tone cursed out from dry lips as the figure slid from his shadowed, unseen corner, rushing through the turns and twists of the rooftop; he flew down onto the hard slabbed ground, his knees bending him to crouch protecting his body. He turned to get past the wedge of two people, but suddenly it became harder as people were running: running in every direction.

His eyes never lost her though. The barley hair that blew in messy braids and almost reached his opposite side, she turned to the source of explosion behind him and his heart beat a little faster; his feet almost stopping at the sensation of her looking at him. But then something flew to his left and exploded again. It was a new form of gunpowder, or a magic he didn't know. Screams filled his ears and only then did he look back to- "Him!"

The blue _bengermoil _was marked as Meridian's. His entire body being thrown at a skinny chil- His eyes had been trained to never miss a thing and he wasn't sure whether he was glad he didn't. Something crashed and burst into flames next to the monster causing him to let go and the girl fell to the ground, she turned and ran and he wondered... The red hair was unbelievable for a mortal and he- He could see the rocket flying right at her. This hadn't been part of his plan.

* * *

Will turned and felt her heart stop. A blur of screaming and the faces of unidentified monsters around her; someone shouting out her name as the world slowed down. It was hard to determine the size, and it was probably fear that was making the rocket launching in her direction look so huge. She stopped breathing. Her heart stopped beating. The world was ending around her. It was all going so slow and she just...

Gasped as the young boy jumped between it and her; he threw what she swore was a blade- a sword in the air which the rocket hit and flew in another direction bursting into flames as he swore and dropped the very real looking... And then he turned and she felt all the blood rush to her ears: her heart must've been beating again. His eyes were raw and green, cutting into her soul with the concern and fear and she wish her lip would stop trembling. His chiselled face tense beneath his tousled brown hair; her eyes dragging down the thick jacket swamping his body to the hilt of the sword on the ground. He must've noticed and he bent to grab the thing. "I hope you're happy now."

And then he was gone.


	4. Chapter 3: Which is which?

The Guardians of the Veil had been forged and broken decades ago, but almost all lived on. Hay Lin pulled at her long band of hair, threading ribbons through to dance with the crow black strands that went as far as her knees if she bent down a little. She always liked that her Grandmother told the story as the background guardian: she danced with the wind like it danced with her own hair now, rather than taking it upon herself to burn the villains to the ground or move the entire earth at her will.

It was as though her Grandmother longed to be part of something excitement but feared disruption of peace when she told her these stories as a child. She used to say she'd been meant as a teacher, not a fighter; that her time was coming. Hay Lin never asked how it came to be that two had come to their death, but it had been an abrupt end to the stories and Hay Lin wondered if maybe it was because after they reached that end she started visiting graves. Well, it was one grave, but Hay Lin had only been young and still recognised that there might be a reason wise Yan Lin had fell upon stories. It had taken up till now for her Grandmother to seem truly with purpose: she and her mad little grandma setting up tea for her guest who was coming. "Grandma, who is coming?"_  
_

"It's a good surprise, little Lin, I promise," Hay Lin's eyes followed the woman's around the papery screens between them and restaurant, which was open far too early but had still managed to house Mrs Rudolph from mathematics for a cup of tea and a few others for the same sort. The elder woman winked at her and smiled; she was plump and had streaky blond wisps still growing from her greying hair; she wore dark tinted glasses throughout the year and the same dark pink pin-skirted suit every day at school, with minor changes that Hay Lin complimented often to razzle Irma who would be hiding under her desk with her unfinished homework. She was alot different from her Grandmother, who wore dozens of long floating qipao', always with long floating scarves wrapped around her and even sometimes one of her most beautiful fans hung from her waist. She always wore her banner dresses loose though, despite it accentuating her frail bony wrists, which would be covered by a maze of blue veins when she carried now just a pot of tea to the table. "Though, I doubt she will be expecting us."

* * *

Wilhelmina Vandom swallowed, letting the hot tea hit the back of her throat before it was ready, just trying no to look at the owner's daughter who sat eagerly grinning in front of her. She'd been asked if she was alright and for once in Will's life she didn't know how to answer a question. So she just went with her instinct and looked up into the large black pupils, eager to know if it had been fear that crazed her into exaggerating, "Do you think I should be dead?"

She winced at her own words, recalling the feeling of removing her singed black dress, and seeing the same uneasiness in the little girl as the smile fell and she began fiddling with her long, unbelievably long pigtails. The elderly woman serving the tea eyed them carefully as she let go of a tray of china cups slightly too quickly, not flinching as the girls did at the chink of the cups as they fell together and on their sides. Or perhaps they were porcelain; Will's hazelnut eyes gazed steadily at the chip that fell a couple inches off the tray, just a fragment of the painted blue floral design visible and part of the golden painted rim. It was awfully thin for china and every other aspect of the restaurant seemed to be traditional; beautiful. The gentle scent of a fragrant Chinese tea filling in the atmosphere because it was obviously far too early to eat. Her eyes crossed the sea of patterns; a universe embroidered into some foreign material. Her fingers crossed the body of a dragon in the corner - there was one in each - and glazed the textures of planets and the cosmic weave of blue between them. She wondered if it was to signify the belief of heaven and hell, or perhaps of an alternate universe: she'd never had much interest in history so somehow the Chinese traditional beliefs managed to elude her. She watched a small, possibly _puzzle-box_ be placed carefully in the centre and she held back a hand she'd already reached out to grab it, stunned at herself and unable to form the words to apologise. But the old woman smiled, her waitress was possibly prone to the same sort of thing, "Grandma Lin, shall I-"

"Sit, granddaughter." Will frowned.

"Aren't I supposed to be meeting with-" Will had leaned back in her chair to glance at the woman she recognised from the school; the person she had assumed had called her mother and arranged this weekend meeting. She'd thought maybe the history teacher she'd been supposed to meet - or the maths teacher who hadn't been turning up to class. But where the elder woman sat was only a vacant chair and not even evidence it had been used. The table was clean of any cup or saucer, of even the spill she'd thought the woman had made as she came in. "Weird."

She watched a small gaggle of girls enter the place looking for... Will turned to the black haired girl who sat twiddling her thumbs and fidgeting. Wanting to leave. "Hay Lin, do you remember the stories I mentioned this morning?"

The girl nodded unwillingly, her cheeks flushing slightly, her eyes trying to look through the thin paper screen at her friends.

"I'd like to introduce you to the Keeper of the Heart." Will waited, wondering both what was going on, why she had to be a part of it, and who they m-

"Me?"

The little Chinese girl's head bobbed up so fast that Will feared her minuscule thin neck might snap of shock: of shock that her old lady was rambling by the look on her face. "Oh Grandmama..."

"What did you call me!?"

Will didn't know whether to be offended, apologetic, or just feel plain pity for the woman. But the woman was past her sell by date - had obviously lost a few screws in the hundred years she looked like she could have lived - and just smiled like they were over reacting. "A greater power outside of time takes care of the universe's balance. But they can need help - until I join them and sort things out!"

The woman murmured a chuckle to herself, but Will suddenly felt an uncomfortable prickling over her skin. This might not be Fadden Hills, but she'd heard of loonies killing their kids and committing felonies in tribute to their beliefs.. She sipped her tea, then spat it out thinking of what might be in the strong concoction. The woman looked at her and smirked.

"Guardians. To help protect people from disruption." The woman's tired bones for fingers touched the dragons, just as Will had, and Will fisted her hand as her shoulders tensed. Her eyes barely meeting those of the elder woman; as black as her Grandaughter's, but full of...belief. "Young women, for their empathy. And for their strength."

"Gra-" The woman turned to the girl raising a finger, like a child in elementary.

"Don't tell your father that that's why I wasn't as keen on a son." It was a joke, but Will didn't hear it that way. The old woman brushed her Granddaughter's cheek. "I always knew you were coming, little one. And you."

"I don't think you're..." Will raised her hands defensively, the pair staring at her; one with purpose and the other inquisition. She kept eye contact with the teen her age and shrugged mouthing a lack of anything to do with this. "I don't really know what you want from me... Sorry."

"Want? Child, I have something of yours. Something that has been missing all your life." Will frowned, now looking at the box. If that old woman was about to hand her her dad in a crate of ashes- It was crazy, but she'd almost died here, it wouldn't even surprise her at this point. The woman might be planning to say one of the dragons burnt him to a crisp to make her feel better: her mum would love it if she said that. But she was curious... The woman pushed her hands over the solar eclipse and pushed aside a saucer of sugar while she did so. "The Metaworld was lost to the universe, before Earth was ready to defend itself. It has been and will become my job to _teach you to _defend the wall protecting these Earthly worlds."

"Oh Grandma!"

"OhmyGodshe'sgotaknife." Will felt herself jumping from her seat and backing up. But the Chinese elder held the knife up, facing behind her and slit the paper screen; breaking the pale block colour of red.

"The Veil between our worlds if fragile and tearing. It has become your job to fix it."

Will didn't feel any more comfortable, watching the knife. "I am not the person you want!"

"Yan Lin." The hand dropped the knife back into a fold of her dress and was held out towards Will. "And if you are not, then why are you stealing my box?"

* * *

The child indeed, was not as Yan Lin had expected her, but she had taken the box without noticing; the Heart claiming it's holder. And she shuffled her feet uneasily, looking at the object in her hand quite unable to part with it. Nerissa had eagerly believed and taken the chore upon herself. But then magic was only myth - not completely unknown back then. "Will. I-I'm sorry I stole your."

She didn't cut of, simply stopped speaking. "You could always give it back."

But the girl just slid into her seat and let the corner gently touch the table.

"I- You can finish your story if you want." Yan Lin wondered if there was a reason that the girl might not want to go. She didn't believe the story, and maybe it was the Heart not letting her put down box.

"You have to finish the story." She pulled the box with only a forced ease from the waif of a girl, who looked anything but what she'd been destined to be. Slipping the jewel from the box, it was clear the girl slipped almost out of consciousness, and Hay Lin almost leapt to her side incase she fell. But the girl would manage. "There are traditionally five guardians. You'll have to gather the others."

"Oh. OH." Will had obviously balanced herself and Yan Lin frowned at the attitude she suddenly adopted. Out of fear, probably. The girl just rolled her eyes and threw her hand towards the restaurant. "Great! Well there's a gaggle of three over there! I'm sorted, tell them to get their sewing kits out, we're gonna save the world!"

Yan Lin's eyes widened, following her daughter's friends and dread filled her at the thought of Irma Lair having had been this powerful the whole time. She could not say there was a problem with the quirky group Hay Lin had grown up with, but she'd never have imagined them to...

"Um." The elderly woman breathed as Will faltered. Maybe after all there was some belief, perhaps in the same way it took Nerissa seeing the Heart to know her destiny. "I actually know someone I'd rather do it with. You know- theoretically."

"I'd give her a call." Yan Lin smirked knowing that they'd believe once they saw some of their abilities. But it fell when she saw Elyon Brown leave the store. That left two...

* * *

Elyon waved her goodbye to her friends, and hugged herself as the cool air outside hit her torso. She supposed that they didn't understand that goodbye was goodbye; that when she said she was going to meet her parents to leave the country, she didn't mean the false parents who'd kidnapped her as their own. Cedric had explained everything last night, and she'd stayed late at the bookshop where he worked on a corner of Heatherfield, until her curfew. Showing her the evidence he'd gathered. Proving that he wasn't lying to her. He was young but he worked for her brother. _Her brother. _Someone who shared her blood. He'd said he'd never met her parents, and from his tone she wasn't sure if they were going to be there or not.

But he'd lit the room with the flick of his hand in the direction of a candle. He'd let her in on the unknown of a secret world. A magic she could never have believed. But then he had shown her her own.

Elyon backed into the corner of an alley, her two fingers and thumbs pressed together. Her breath still caught as she pulled them into a diamond, at the meagre, but incredible string of pure white..._magic_... that she'd created.

And everybody knew; well, _anybody _knew. This place wasn't safe for her to live anymore and frankly she felt betrayed. It was sheer fright that let her push away the questions and just accept everything _Lord _Cedric said. He was an important man where he came from, and she was important to her brother. Maybe, maybe if she stopped and thought she would see that this was madness, but at the least she knew that the lack of DNA between her family was true and for that reason she didn't care anymore. No matter what he might do to her, she wanted to risk it. She couldn't stay here anymore. She believed he wouldn't hurt her.

* * *

Irma watched Hay Lin watch her, from an empty corner. The little girl pouring over the table. And Taranee Cook had been dragged into this too, but Irma still knew what Yan Lin could be like. And _Will Vandom, __poor little nobody new girl, _had decided to play along just as they all did at times. Because it was easier to pretend with Yan Lin sometimes, than it was to disagree with the woman.

"_Are you crazy! You just seriously told her we'd be what! Chose us!?_"

Irma was glad to see Taranee Cook still sitting with her, because even she and Hay Lin had been caught up in the craziness of the moment - and Cornelia's eyes - to follow the blonde to the back room: a hall that led upstairs to Hay Lin's. And Cornelia was still scowling whilst Yan Lin and her fought almost silently. Hay Lin sighed unhappily and closed the door after Will stormed out; grabbing her red bike from against the window out front and leaving briskly.

What a load of trouble over nothing.


	5. Chapter 4: The Tear

The air was like ice this early November; with sparkles of frost coating everything, making an awful crunch under the bicycle wheels as they span faster and faster. It was her fault, that stupid _Hay Lin_'s grandmother was crazy! It was her fault; that her mother had felt she had to move away from their her home. It was all her fault and now she had someone's precious jewellery hanging from her neck!

Will grimaced. She hated winter. She hated her mother. She hated everyone! Why couldn't everything go back to last night when everything was good and the lead guitarist of the school's party's band seemed to wink right at her? Last night everything had seemed to be so- Will flinched as a rocket flew straight toward her line of thought and she pulled down on the breaks, her trainer skidding against the gravel.

Finding herself lost for words at what she'd thought she saw and what she saw now in the window pane of an empty looking bookstore. She'd have sworn she saw wings. Black and pointed with several glassy panels of delicate greens and blues. And a tight fluorescent turquoise and deep royal purple outfit against a curvaceous, feminine body. The turquoise skirt layered over turquoise and lime green tights, that clung to long legs under long purple boots; beautiful, yet leathery and strong, and definitely not firm against the ground nor on a bicycle. She'd have sworn the top would match: purple, clinging only down as far as her ribcage, with long floating sleeves perfectly torn to give the arms free movement. And it covered a chest that Will blushed at, her hand covering her lack in embarrassment, reaching the neck as pullover would, covering it at least a third of the way.

And her face. But older. Wiser. Far more self assured. And how did she know what she'd swear she saw? Because as she looked across the street she saw her oversized grey jacket and her scuffed jeans on the floor. But she knew before she turned that what she peered up to read was _Ye Olde' Bookshop_'s window, she knew that the reflection of the woman would still be there. Now Standing, with her hand fisted where Will's held her bike, and the other against her chest just as Will's was.

She didn't knew what came over her. Panic. Fear.

Will hooked her leg back over her bicycle and somehow rode faster than before. _A tear_. It couldn't be true. It wouldn't be true, but if that decrepit old woman put that much effort into telling them that there was something behind the school by hell she was going to find it. She was insane now, definitely, but there was something about the way that Cornelia _princess _Hale had pointed her manicured nail at _her _that boiled Will's blood and raised her pulse. It wasn't fair. It was _not _fair. It. Was. Not.

Will Vandom's head lolled back before she had a chance to stop her bike from heading right towards the tree.

* * *

Cornelia bore her teeth animalisticly at Yan Lin, who'd thrown a map down in front of them. The old bat was not happy with her and usually Cornelia would care - she'd always been modest and polite to Hay Lin's family, but the thought of doing anything in a _team _with the snotty little brat riled her, nevermind that Yan Lin was claiming some voodoo on them all. "The Heart will reveal where a portal lies, when hung over the map."

"Oh yeah, big whoop." She yawned wondering why Hay Lin didn't just tell her parents her Gran needed to up her medication, but instead she'd sat for the last half hour with her hands hovering over a paper aeroplane. "Jesus Irm-"

Cornelia frowned, looking where the water had hit her from. And then in the direction of Irma Lair who looked like she might wet herself, but - Cornelia thought, uneasily - not out of laughter. "Oh my holy cheeses. I think I did a thing."

* * *

He had been alerted that his sister was coming, but not to what his murmurers had found in the forest. For he had sent them there to watch it; the portal. The room he spent his days in, was filled with dust now. Light hadn't caught this place in years, but he recalled that it was filled with the same bold colour as her hair. Something wasn't allowing her image to him clearly, but he knew it; recognised her scent. His lips ached to whisper the source, just as his eyes sought a clearer image of the porcelain skin he could sense in their eyes.

He needed to know more. With a consideration his mind commanded the forest's eyes to be looking at her. His defined, malnourished chest heaving with the anxiety he felt. Prince Phobos had not felt the purpose he did now for almost his lifetime and now. Now he knew he was not going to allow his world to be seized.

With a wave of two fingers the windows opened and the wind sucked out the dust. His fist hit the cold, hard thrown as his angelic features twisted with a putrid anger.

He would not have them overthrow him. He would not have them destroy his work as he could destroy them. The thankless world beneath him, he felt shudder as he stood by the open window pane. Staring down at his gardens beneath and in the direction of the witch planning to execute him. His snarl dropped and anger faced. His fingers pulling a pile of dusty sand that had caught on the window pane and throwing it to the ground. _Show me._

* * *

She struggled against the ice and fear and loneliness in her lungs, the darkness hardly clearing as she fought for consciousness on her hands and knees. She had grabbed the earth like a hand to hold in her desperation and squeezed her eyes tight shut to expel the dizziness enveloping her. But in her mind a face stared stonily; silver eyes slit through her closed lids and invisible lips whispered, "Quintessence."

Will's eyes flew opened and she screamed. The hollow dirt of the ground had protruded in the shape of a skull; her hand tagling with this creature's roots for fingers that grabbed her forcefully; it was part of a man made of earth, reaching out from the dirt he had come from, and only a hand and the face just inches from hers, but more of them too: tens of them surrounded her. Huge and thinly men surrounding her, appearing made from the foest she stood in. She wrenched her hands from the earth and shrieked shaking off the limp roots that fell easily away then. And then they were gone. Like they'd slunk away back into their trees and grounds. With only that whisper in her mind.

And her quivering lips and the childish tears in her eyes. She'd walked into a nightmare. The ground was flat and the stink of death filled her lungs and she dared not touch any thing incase it seized her. Will's focus came down to the ground. That hollow face. That- And she ran.

Through the trees and grasses and vines, that blurred as she ran faster. Knowing she had gone in the wrong direction: knowing she was lost. But she didn't stop until her eyes caught his face. In the split second of shaking off her tears she heard him. Saw him. With no idea how he'd came to be standing in front of her. Her gaze dropped to his sheath and his hand grabbed it protectively, hiding it. The urge to sniff was unbearable but she stubbornly blinked back her tears instead. What would he ever think of her doing this.

* * *

Silence filled the room at Hay Lin's. That and quiet disbelief. They'd come across a nightmare, and all of them would know that they'd thrown the blame to some new girl who hadn't done a thing. Irma's finger danced in her glass wondering how she'd managed to flick that water at Cornelia. But it hadn't been as funny as she'd thought when imagining it and they all rather just sat down and took it in. "We could tell her on Monday."

"Tell her what?"

Irma frowned at Cornelia's accusitory tone. "You know-"

"I don't know a thing. I didn't see a thing and you didn't _do a thing_! Just go get a reality check Irma."

"Fine."

Irma knew what she'd seen and they all did. Cornelia felt that water hit her face and it wasn't fair for her to pretend she didn't now! It just wasn't fair.

* * *

Caleb couldn't take his eyes off her. A bird had called and her entire body had shaken, but she still developed a stubborn, angered pout that she directed at him. "They came out of the ground and the trees..."

It surprised him. His eyes still flashing around for signs of guards when he heard what she said. Caleb had never thought of Prince Phobos releasing the murmurers, but the forest would be the perfect place. _Snap_. Caleb found his entire body swivelling, before he grabbed the pure white arm and ducked beneath an arrow that hit a tree. "_You little witch! You've blown my cover again!"_

He didn't know why he'd hissed such a thing at her; if she was right they'd known where he was anyway. They'd _always _know where he was. Caleb saw her face drop and tensed as she grabbed his arm, but slid his hand around her. She didn't struggle, he noticed and it took him a moment to realize who she was. He'd thought her the future queen, but Lord Cedric wanted her for the pendant around her dainty neck. He didn't recognize it, really, the pinkish orb, held within a curling silver it could easily be a fake. But he could smell it; most of Meridian had learned to. She had magic bursting out of her tiny fingers and he found himself cursing under his breath.

_She was a witch._

He pulled his sword up, deflecting another arrow - detecting the next with precision and pulling her up the nearest tree. He grabbed an arrow and threw it the second he saw the archer; giving them the impression someone here was shooting back at him. His eyes flit across to the little girl beside him, who'd pressed herself against the tree and her hands against her eyes. "You'll get hit if you can't see when to duck!"

But suddenly he knew he didn't need her too and he peeled away her hand and pointed. "The tear!"

Whatever she was, she wasn't making him any safer and, he thought eyeing her orb, just maybe he could use her for something. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the edge of the branch, "Jump!"

He was surprised that she had and found himself bounding after her; her eyes on the home route and her speed only increasing as she weaved through trees and vines. _She was a pixie? _He didn't have time to consider, her body flying through and somehow he knew that it might be his last chance to-

He stopped dead. His fingers wincing, but hand reaching where the portal had been. She must have created the portal.

* * *

Will didn't understand what she'd done, when she turned and the boy had gone. And the rip and she supposed she'd done her job.

But what if she'd left him for dead? What if she'd closed someone in that wasn't meant to be there?


	6. Chapter 5: Silence

Caleb had been raised as a purposeful child: he was a foreign entity to the entire universe around him. He was a stunning boy though, with olive toned skin and a slim, muscular physique; with full masculine lips and a strong jawline that could not go unnoticed over the years the man had spent with him. Watching this shadow of their enemy grow up.

It was because of Caleb that they'd been made aware that Phobos himself had suspicion of his own downfall, that he could obsess to the point of forgetting his humane needs. It was a trait that had carried - Caleb was an unfinished diary of the clouded secrets that pressed on their tyrant - once a murmurer, his soul had been carved from that of the prince. Even here only Caleb knew and could obsess over every secret, but while it sometimes comforted, it currently disturbed Aketon. "I could feel it, I knew of it."

"And something tells you you could use it?" Aketon's son didn't understand that a mind from a dark mind might too possess such a thing as a sinister thought. He had always obliged Caleb's need be it in battle or a search for answers. But Aketon had known exactly what this boy was looking for, his fingers tracing Caleb's precise illustration. Though he did smirk perplexed at the boy's insistence that the species would have a connection with large eyes - it wasn't often that such a pitiful thing as a feature would grasp his attention. He could imagine Caleb's denial of possibly being unnecessarily perceptive; that there simply couldn't be no connection to her magic and the shape of this woman's eyes. "You said this girl was a child, I doubt it her magic at all."

Aketon frowned, trying to figure how to convince Caleb not to pursue this. The young male was bright, with bright eyes to match; that changed from intrigued, clearing emerald to solemn ivy like leaves changing seasons. His firm expression stubborn and sure, like he never seemed not to look. Caleb was never not wary in all his life, knowing in the end their last enemy was him. But just like Phobos, Aketon supposed Caleb intended to take care of that too. A boy who Aketon admired for graciously taking his due burdens on his shoulders.

"But Aketon, I need to find her."

The words were something this ageing blacksmith never expected to hear in his life.

* * *

Thomas Brown was a fairly timid character; both of the couple were. It was his wife who's voice filled the room now though, her gentle sobs breaking the tension between the three of them. "My Daughter is missing and you want to let things lie low!"

"What about her brother!?" Thomas frowned at Galgheita, who had pressed a pair of glasses up her plump pinkish nose. She wasn't taking their fears seriously enough; calmly swirling a milky biscuit in her cup of tea, despite the fact that they were all aware of how close to coming of age Elyon was coming now that her fourteenth birthday had passed, just nights before she'd gone missing.

Galgheita, he knew, would have none of their criticism had they voiced it though. "Children run away. I wouldn't press your concerns to me rather than, now, you both concentrating on going into hiding yourself."

"Hiding!?" Thomas echoed. Galgheita nodded, pushing her chair back and getting up. She walked slowly around her desk as she always did when leading them to the door of her office. He wasn't ready to leave, but he knew she had always been in charge of matters.

"Unless you can create another alibi for Elyon disappearing, people are _going _to start looking for her." He frowned as the round bodied woman bent down to open a drawer rather than her doorway. "I for one do not wish for Earth's police force enquiring as to why I may or may not exist in their precious _'system'_. And I am asking you not to give them a reason to. But you however, will never make it out of an investigation for your own daughter. They will blame you."

"But-" Galgheita's eyes narrowed and he knew the argument was lost. Eleanor Brown stood and didn't say a word as she pushed her way from the room - Thomas often felt that her bond with Elyon's was as strong as a biological mother's would be - but Galgheita turned to him, handing him a familiar box. "Thank you, for everything you have given us."

His fingers traced the triangular and circular patterns engraved on it as he left the room.

"Oh!" Thomas Brown's brow furrowed when the blonde from the year above Elyon backed away from where she'd bumped into his chest. He would have recognised her anywhere: Cornelia Hale. "Mr Brown! Everything alright? Elyon wasn't he-"

"We were just collecting some classwork she'll be missing on our early holiday." He curled his fingers around Eleanor's arm. "Though _some _of her teachers have been less than polite and considerate of our personal decisions on such _family _matters."

He frowned at the girl's lack of interest as he implied Mrs Rudolph as disrespectful toward their life choices, nodding bashfully as she ducked around them, "I better get back to class! They already think I spend too much time fixing my hair in the ladies room!"

And that was that. The simplest lie he'd ever told. And the last they'd ever see of Elyon's best friend. Thomas Brown felt a tugging remorse for the life they'd made, turning away and clasping his hands around the box. It was gone now.

* * *

Cornelia Hale couldn't breathe. She couldn't believe it. Mrs Rudolph was part of this whole Guardian conspiracy. And she had threatened the Browns. And. Cornelia's cheeks flushed with fear and shock from the thought; her best friend had gone missing. Whatever they were trying to stop tearing into this dimension had probably- She didn't know what to do. She couldn't believe it. She shouldn't. "Oh my God."

* * *

Her green eyes followed the man pacing quietly before her. It disgusted her that Prince Phobos would put his soul into deceiving people: his obsession for convincing this _sister _of his that he had mourned for her was repulsive. He had given up eating for this. He still looked flawless though, in this diminished exterior. Miranda was a token of the prince's. It tore something she held deep inside of her to watch him collecting his newest possession. Miranda was his because she was an orphaned species. And proof of him annihilating one.

The spiteful swine had killed everyone like her, and at the memory of watching it the petite girl snarled, her eyes like daggers cutting beneath the fringe of her pristine black bob. She felt thick, dark hairs starting to prickle below the surface of her skin when he smirked, silver rimmed pupils meeting her gaze steadily. His voice was like the silk spun for a spider's web. "I never did meet my sister."

"I'm sure she's glad of it."

Miranda's eyes widened and her neck stiffened, shrinking back in shock of herself, but she knew he'd do nothing. He'd been tormentingly tolerant of her since he'd had her brought here. He liked that it crawled under her skin - living well by the murderer of her entire kingdom. It took only three days for the Prince's order to lead Lord Cedric and his forces to destroy any proof other than herself of her people.

But she supposed it was with glee that he always spoke so intimately with her. With a twisted enjoyment that he'd decided _she _was to be one of few that were endowed with his presence.

"I suppose she will be." Miranda bit her lip as the prince waved a strand of platinum hair behind his shoulder, she stared at his reddish-covered chin, unable to face his eyes. He excelled at creating a tone of _sincerity _in his gentle voice. "Would you have been glad to never meet me Miranda?"_  
_

There. There it was. The sickly drawl that created unpleasant goosebumps over her skin and the urge to eject the contents of her stomach; his mouth curling wickedly, entertained by himself, Miranda scowled. "I would be rather glad if an adult ruled Meridian."

She did enjoy when his smirk dropped from his egotistical Highness' face. But anger still filled har and she let the heavy door slam into his raised voice behind her, "I am your King."

* * *

Irma Lair frowned and peered through the lunchtime rush; her blue eyes glittering, eagerly stalking every movement of Taranee Cook ever since fear had turned to excitement, and Cornelia had turned to belief. Today was the day. "Irma, will you look where you're going!"

She pushed her tray along, with her nose in the air at Cornelia's bluntness, but she was actually quite impressed with Cornelia. The brunette smiled sweetly as the canteen staff shovelled their so-called _'health foods' _onto her plate - something her father, the policeman, did not buy into either; _'vegetables'_ - while her peripheral vision noticed the redhead slumping next to Taranee and chewing the inside of her cheek probably nervously.

"Gentlemen!" Irma bowed her head comically as their three trays hit the table, Cornelia quietly petulant and Hay Lin just quiet. Irma rolled her eyes at the attention her loudness had got her. "Is no one else enjoying this even a little bit? I want a cape!"

"Are you seriously making jokes about our-" Irma scowled as Taranee held her words back. Actually, she hadn't been joking. But it obviously wasn't the time to mention that... "What're you even doing here anyway!?"

The round lensed glasses on her cocoa skin quavered and the beads in her dark hair rattled as the young girl shook her head forcefully. It was fear, something that Irma was well past feeling now. Hay Lin finally piped up, "Tara, so you don't like doing magic tricks..."

Irma let the water in her glass swirl, her finger never touching it despite the stirring motion she had been dancing with it. She smiled lazily as Taranee's eyes followed the whirl out of the glass; Irma let it splash back in lifelessly, slamming her fists on the table. "But we still have to save the world! People's lives are in danger!"

As a first class annoyance to Cornelia Hale, Irma recognised the movement of the blonde's shoulders tensing but despite the urge, she was trying so hard not to push anyone.

"You." She pointed finger at Will Vandom; the one and only _'keeper'_, who's apparent power was holding their better powers and closing things. The girl went scarlet in a milisecond and Irma frowned. Why did everyone have to be so nervous? "What's up with you, you're new right?"

"Um..." Irma closed her eyes in frustration. This was not happening fast enough.

"What're you doing tonight?"

"Well I have this thing with a teacher..." Silence, even more than before hit the table - the type that people could feel - the silence of awe and Irma's mouth curled upward against all her willpower. She _wasn't _one of those girls who dated a- She bet it was Professor Collins. She- "I've been asked to meet my math teacher, I think she wants to tutor me... I'm not very good..."

"Mrs Rudolph! You-" Cornelia halted, and sat down despite her shocked expression, returning to her previous silence and not looking at anybody. Irma shrugged at Will and Taranee's confused expressions and silence seemed to fall on all of them. This was not nearly happening fast enough for Irma Lair.


End file.
